This is a reprint from last year, so it may look familiar. For anyone new here (Hi! Welcome!), we hope you’ll enjoy reading about our Valentine’s plant tradition and maybe make it your own. . .

When Belly was a toddler, an online friend posted a Valentine’s tradition that was so easy and flexible that I knew I had to try it out. We are now in our fifth year (this will actually be the sixth), and now the kids expect it. You’d think I’d be better prepared for it each year.

It does involve a bit of deceit, so if you are someone who thinks Santa and his ilk are terrible lies for children to believe, you may want to stop reading now.

OK, here is what you do to make your very own Valentine’s Day Lollipop Plant:

1. A few days before Valentine’s Day, give you child a small empty flower pot.

Procrastinator version*: the night before, take your saddest looking house plant and, without letting the kids see, pull it out of the soil and throw it out into the backyard to serve as compost. Or just use a cup.

2. Let the kids decorate the outside of the pot with stickers, markers, glitter glue.

Procrastinator version*: skip this step; it is almost bedtime!

3. Once the decorations have dried, carefully fill the pot with several inches of fresh potting soil.

Procrastinator version*: search garage, basement and shed for potting soil, to no avail. Either reuse the soil that was once the life force of the dead plant now lying in your backyard, OR, go into the yard with a spoon and chip off a half-inch of hard dry dirt from the frozen ground.

4. Give your child some tiny cinnamon hearts and have him push some into the dirt. Blow a kiss and water them a little bit.

Procrastinator version*: Oops! No cinnamon hearts? Use anything sprinkly or red and hope your kid is too young to notice the difference.

5. If you have started your plant a few days before Valentine’s Day, you can make the plant start to grow over several days. The first night, cut up a few lollipop sticks into various heights. The first night, put the smallest sticks in the dirt so that the plant seems to be ‘sprouting’. The next night, replace those sticks with slightly longer sticks. . .keep this up for a few days.

Procrastinator version*: You did not start your plant a few days before Valentine’s Day.

6. The night before Valentine’s Day (Valentine’s Eve?), replace the sticks with several beautiful lollipops. Go to bed and know that you will be woken to the delighted shrieks of “it grew! it grew!”

Procrastinator version*: The night before, sneak out to the local CVS after the kids have fallen to sleep and buy the last sad bag of lollipops (which are not red, heart shaped or have anything to do with Valentine’s Day but beggars can’t be choosers). Fall asleep but wake with a jolt at 6am and realize you forgot all about the damn plant. Tiptoe down the stairs, and carefully jam some pops into the dirt. If necessary, shield the plant from view with your body as you do this so your child does not see his mother’s lame attempt at creating “magic”.

* taken from personal experience

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I’ve sworn off of Twitter and Facebook for the week, which means that all of the little chatter in my head has just been bouncing off itself instead of finding a home in 14-point type (confession: I have no idea what size type is used on either website).

It’s been a stressful week. Fairly Odd Father has had some heavy things happen at work, and the kids have been taunting me with “I’m getting sicker!” vs. “I’m getting better!” on alternate days, but never on the same days.

On Wednesday, I brought Jilly to the doctor to check out her never-ending cough because the day before she had gone pale and tired, falling asleep on the couch at 10am. We had also heard of a friend’s son who was diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia after having H1N1, so this information was rattling around in my brain as I watched her nap.

The doctor listened to her lungs and proclaimed it was not pneumonia. Just asthmatic wheezing probably triggered by a virus. Well, hot damn! That’s like being told your flight will be landing on time after all, but you’ll be going to an airport 1,000 miles from your final destination.

Then, the doctor looked at Belly, slumped in the chair and coughing. He listened to her lungs and said she was making “bronchial sounds”, and I should make sure they don’t get much worse. Awesome. So, last night, guess who was up half the night listening to her firstborn cough her head off, thinking “is this worse?“. I’d bring her in to the doctor’s today to have him check her lungs but. . .

D woke me in the middle of the night to tell me he had thrown up all over his bed. And, he wasn’t kidding. I even have to wash his dozens of stuffed animals. His lungs sounded fine on Wednesday, but how about giving him a little intestinal distress for kicks?

The irony of all of this is that the doctor was able to vaccinate the three of them against H1N1 while we were in the office on Wednesday. Good thing that will keep them healthy this winter.

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